


Our Fates have Already Been Spun

by viku123



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Anal Sex, Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon-Typical Violence, M/M, Male Eivor (Assassin's Creed), Oral Sex, Porn with Feelings, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-01-15
Updated: 2021-01-15
Packaged: 2021-03-12 15:15:40
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,278
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28762431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/viku123/pseuds/viku123
Summary: “Vili… You know that… that this was a momentary heat. Just a flickering flame…”Vili understood why Eivor had said it. Something more between them would have never worked; Vili was to become jarl and lead his clan while Eivor was to continue scouting England for new alliances. Eivor had known they would be apart more often than not and wished to avoid putting them through that. That was why he said those words, Vili told himself repeatedly, afraid to imagine any other reason why he would have kept them from becoming anything more than dear friends. He understood why Eivor had done so, but that never made the memory hurt any less.
Relationships: Eivor/Vili Hemmingson
Comments: 13
Kudos: 114





	Our Fates have Already Been Spun

**Author's Note:**

> So let me start by saying it is an absolute CRIME that you can't give Eivor a permanent relationship with Vili if he joins you in Ravensthorpe. These two have the best chemistry out of everyone in the game and I just love them so much and they belong together!
> 
> There's no doubt in my mind that Vili is in love with Eivor, and I just know he's heartbroken when Eivor says that their moment was just a one time thing. I mean, poor thing just lost his father and then Eivor does that to him and it just makes me so emotional!
> 
> Spoiler warning for Snotinghamscire arc but you can't have Vili without that so maybe not spoiler warning??

When Vili had chosen to renounce his jarl duties in Snotinghamscire and move to Ravensthorpe as one of Eivor's raiders, he was beyond thrilled. It was as if a chain that had always bound him was finally broken. He had never wanted the title or the responsibility that came with it; he wanted nothing more than the freedom to live as he pleased, how he had always imagined he would. He was forever grateful to Eivor and the other Raven Clan members for welcoming him with open arms.

Vili had immediately jibed with Eivor's crew. A powerful warrior, and an instant necessity to the war-band, he fought beside them with expert skill and led them to one successful raid after another.

“Return to the longship, and let us celebrate another great victory for the Raven Clan!” Eivor announced after sounding his horn to signal the end of their raid, his hands filled with as many looted riches as he could carry.

“A great victory, yes, but do let me know if you need help carrying all of that; it would be a shame if you lost all of it in the mud after your fragile arms gave out.” Vili appeared at Eivor’s side, flicking the blood from his axe and resting it on his shoulder.

Eivor shot a challenging glance back at his friend before lowering the crate to the ground and waving a hand to call over his lieutenant Jomsviking. “Carry this to the longship for me. I will meet up with you after I teach this troll-faced lout a lesson.”

“Hah, you see that? Too fragile to carry it all on his own after all!”

“Yet you stand before me without a single fleck of wealth in your hands.”

Vili raised his axe defensively, emphasizing his reply. “That is because while you were scurrying around like a hare in the grass, I was on the battlefield defending the clans honor and swatting the Saxon flies that chased you down.”

“The only flies I’ve seen are the ones buzzing around your head, reeking troll.” Eivor countered, giving Vili a playful nudge and jerking his chin towards the dried mud and splashes of blood covering him from head to toe. Not that Eivor was any cleaner; tattered blood had dried at the ends of his hair and beard, and his body was coated in filth, from sweat to mud and all the grime in between.

“A challenge, then! I will race you to the longship, and when you finally catch up, you will admit to your crew that you stood no chance against me.”

“I accept,” Eivor grinned before abruptly sprinting forward without warning. “Anything to get me away from you, dirty troll!”

“You can’t win without a head start! Just what I would expect!” Vili took off behind him, reaching out and shoving Eivor to the side as he caught up.

Eivor laughed and swatted his hand away. “Fighting dirty, arse-stick?” He twisted suddenly and kicked his foot out, sending mud flying haphazardly.

The diversion only worked for a moment; Vili quickly recovered, picking up his speed as Eivor neared the longship. “Your tactics are clever, wolf-kissed, but they will always fail to my raw power!”

Eivor urgently leapt on the hull of the longship but quickly lost his balance as Vili pushed him forward, sending him toppling off the side towards the river beneath.

“Hah! A glorious victory worthy of –!” Vili’s boasting was cut short as Eivor snatched his cloak and pulled him down after him, sending both of them crashing into the waters below.

After several attempts to dunk the other’s head underwater, Vili and Eivor climbed back into the longship, Eivor taking command as the raiders began their way back to Ravensthorpe.

Vili had enjoyed each raid he’d been a part of since joining Eivor’s crew. He always believed his real place was on the battlefield, and his warrior-heart sang every time he fought boldly beside his dear friend, just as they had done so many years ago. While he would always be grateful to Trygve and the Hemmingson Clan, he was fully content with his new path, thanking the gods for spinning his fate the way they had and gifting him with the life he’d always dreamed of. A life of freedom, of a drengr. A life spent with his dearest friend.

When Eivor and his war-band reached Ravensthorpe, they quickly began unloading their spoils as they sang and cheered, still high from the outstanding victory.

“I swear on Thor’s beard, it was bigger than any beast I have ever seen!” Vili explained to Eivor, both of them with a crate in their hands. “Once we finish moving all of this, I will show you! It’s not far from the river outside Snotingham; if we hunt it together, we could easily slay it and drag it back here! It would make a feast fit for the gods!”

Eivor couldn’t help but smile at Vili’s enthusiasm. “As exciting as that sounds, I’m afraid I must report to Randvi. She has received word on another potential ally and asks that I meet with them.” He continued toward the longhouse, briefly glancing back at Vili with a nod. “Another time, perhaps. But I look forward to the raids to come!”

Vili had already stopped following him. He opened his mouth to respond but fell silent as he watched Eivor grow more distant. He knew Eivor hadn’t meant for his words to sting the way that they did. Eivor had responsibilities; Vili knew that, but it never stopped him from drifting to a paradise where nothing existed but the two of them.

It wasn’t the first time Vili had blindly gotten lost in the moment with Eivor. Even the shortest of interactions brought him pure joy. His thoughts were filled with his friend often, thoughts of battles shared and gazes exchanged, memories of their passionate tryst at Odin’s Hovel, and nightmares of the words Eivor had said to him afterwards that always pulled him back to bitter reality just as quickly as he had strayed.

“ _Vili… You know that… that this was a momentary heat. Just a flickering flame…”_

He understood why Eivor had said it. Something more between them would have never worked; Vili was to become jarl and lead his clan while Eivor was to continue scouting England for new alliances. Eivor had known they would be apart more often than not and wished to avoid putting them through that. That was why he said those words, Vili told himself repeatedly, afraid to imagine any other reason why he would have kept them from becoming anything more than dear friends. He understood why Eivor had done so, but that never made the memory hurt any less.

Days came and went as they always had. Eivor and his crew continued to loot supplies to advance Ravensthorpe, but Vili grew more and more detached, far less enthusiastic for their raids like he had once been.

They had launched an assault on a smaller abbey in northern Essex. The plunder gained was expected to be less than usual, but the guards impeding their way were just as vigilant.

“Someone help me out here!” Eivor called out amongst the war-addled screams as he pushed against a heavily barred monastery door. Through the clashing of blades, he caught sight of Vili pulling his axe from a fallen soldier not far from where he stood. “Vili, come help me with this door!”

Vili rested his axe limply at his side. The thrill he once felt on the battlefield had faded, and his thoughts were distant. His mind was plagued with thoughts of Eivor and what he wanted them to be, of what they simply were not. Thoughts that put his head in a raging storm that only calmed when Eivor’s shouts forced him back to reality.

“Vili, behind you!”

Jerking back, Vili reflexively brought his axe forward, just barely blocking an oncoming blade and quickly countering with a fatal blow. He swore his heart must have stopped for a second. Had he really let himself get so distracted on the battlefield? His blurring stare drifted to Eivor, who shot back with one of dismay. He must have been furious with him, Vili thought as he watched Eivor force through the door with his lieutenant. Gods, what a pathetic raider he had become.

He continued to shame himself internally as Eivor hastily approached him, carrying a crate full of riches he had taken from inside the burning building. “Vili, what the Hel was that?” His tone was harsh, only making Vili scorn himself that much more.

“It was nothing. I just want to continue with our raid.” He shook his head dismissively, lifting his axe and turning away from Eivor.

“There is no need.” Eivor insisted, “We’ve taken enough supplies for now, and I cannot risk another stumble like that from you. We’ll return to Ravensthorpe and collect more at another time.” He ended the discussion and began towards the longship, sounding his horn with his free hand to call the others to join him.

Vili cursed himself as he watched Eivor walk away. What an arse he’d made of himself, in front of Eivor and his crew. He shook his head, bitterly gripping his axe and following the remaining raiders to the longship.

The crew was just as enthusiastic as ever. Still exhilarated from the heat of battle, they sung with their skald of another successful raid.

But Vili stayed mostly silent, his distant gaze outward on the waters as he continued to dwell on his lingering screw-up.

The sun had fled behind the dirt, and night darkened the sky as Eivor’s war-band docked in Ravensthorpe. After unloading their war spoils, most of the raiders made a retreat to the barracks, weary from a hard-fought battle.

Unable to sleep, Vili sat alone on the docks outside, staring into the clear night sky. He had made a fool of himself in front of his crewmates, in front of Eivor. His actions had put them in danger, and he cursed himself for being so careless. What was wrong with him? Wasn’t he supposed to be that powerful drengr everyone knew him to be? But today he fought with the skill of a newborn; after a show like that, he’d be lucky if Eivor ever brought him on another raid again.

Eivor…

Vili buried his face in his hands and let out a tired breath. He couldn’t continue like this. What was he supposed to do? Perhaps he should return to Hemthorpe and take up his expected duties as jarl. Or maybe he could serve as Trygve’s advisor, knowing the man was far more suitable for the position than he was. Regardless of his options, he already knew he’d choose the worst of them. He scoffed at himself, returning his gaze back to the sky. He couldn’t bring himself to leave Ravensthorpe; he truly did enjoy his new life as part of the Raven Clan, but seeing Eivor so often only intensified the feeling that he had an increasingly difficult time burying. He was in love with Eivor, and no wound he had ever received ached more than living each day without him. Being in the presence of his dear friend made his heart sing like the finest skald, only to have those songs silenced as the bitter memory of their night together infested his thoughts like a plague. He wanted to remember it differently, prayed to any god that would hear him that he could remember it the way it had been. Beautiful. Perfect. The most wonderful dream that he never wanted to wake from. He held his breath, feeling the hairs on his neck stand on end when he heard the anticipated approach of painfully familiar footsteps.

“Too good to sleep in the barracks, arse-stick?”

Gods, his voice stung like the coldest blade. Vili shifted as he felt Eivor take a seat next to him. He couldn’t face him, certainly not now. After his blunder earlier and the current wreck in his head, losing himself in those serene blue eyes would only push that figurative blade deeper into his chest.

“It has been quite a day. Shouldn’t you rest?”

How could a voice so soothing hurt so much? Vili shut his eyes, swallowing hard before answering, “I just needed a little fresh air. I’ll be back inside soon enough.”

Worry grew on Eivor’s face. “…What in the All-Father’s name has gotten into you, Vili?”

Vili tightened his fists, willing himself for force a grin. “If you mean to lecture me on my actions during the raid, raven-brains, do not waste your breath. That was nothing more than a brief misstep; it won’t happen again,” he lied, hoping a childhood insult and faux laugh would keep Eivor from prying further.

But of course, Eivor saw through his facade with ease, just like Vili knew he would. “You claim it to be only a brief misstep, but I have seen it happen more often with each passing day. It’s as if your body is here with us, but your mind is elsewhere.”

Vili couldn’t look at him. What the Hel was wrong with him, putting Eivor through this? He was pathetic. He wanted to run away, anywhere, anything to hide from this overflowing self-hatred.

“Vili, I…” Eivor’s voice was gentle as he hesitated, “I cannot keep you in my crew if you cannot focus on the battlefield. I will not risk losing you.” He lowered his gaze, somberly watching the ripples in the water below. “If you have changed your mind about staying here, I will not hold that against you. You are always free to return to Hemthorpe; I will happily take you there myself if that is what you wish.”

Gods, please, not now. He couldn’t do this now. Vili gave a weak breath through clenched teeth as Eivor continued.

“I will understand if being one of my raiders in not what you want—”

“It _is_ what I want!” Vili cut him off, slamming his fist into the dock beneath them.

A heavy silence hung between the two men. Vili’s shoulders sank as he bowed his head once more. “I mean what I have said,” he whispered, “It…won’t happen again.”

Eivor watched him in concern. Tilting his head slightly to meet his averted gaze, Eivor lifted his arm and placed it supportively behind Vili’s back. “I’m glad to have you as part of the Raven Clan, my friend. Thrilled, even. But I cannot lose you, Vili. You are terribly dear to me, and I do not even want to think of a life without you in it.”

Vili finally met Eivor’s worried gaze, drowning in those gorgeous blues and falling apart. The sting of tears burned his eyes as he knit his brow. His body ached more than ever. Eivor was here, right here, but he still felt impossibly out of reach. Eivor’s warmth at his side was like a bonfire after being lost in a blizzard, and he craved it more than anything. His body moved on its own; he couldn’t stop himself from placing a hand softly on Eivor’s scarred cheek. He gazed at Eivor in silence, the longing expression on his pained face speaking louder than any words could.

“Vili…” Eivor’s voice was barely a whisper as he lifted his free hand and placed it gently over Vili’s. “What happened at Odin’s Hovel… We have already agreed that it was nothing more than a momentary heat.”

“But what if it wasn’t?” Please, gods, he couldn’t hear those words again. “What if… it was more than just that?” Eivor struggled to find the right words as Vili continued. “I did not take the position of jarl of Snotingham, and I have no responsibilities as such. There are no longer any chains that bind me; I am free to do as I want… be with whomever I want.”

Eivor narrowed his eyes, face contorting as he tightened his hand over Vili’s. “Was our time together not just an escape from grief?”

“It’s true that I was grieving, but it does not change everything that I had felt, everything that I still feel.” Vili lowered his gaze, resting his forehead softly against Eivor’s as his unsteady voice dropped to a whisper. “It does not matter what oceans separate us, or what duties may have come between us; the Nornir have already spun our fates, and they have woven mine into yours, Eivor. Wherever you may go, I will follow. Be it on the battlefield, or to the ends of Valhalla, I will be at your side always.” He took in a weak breath, hesitating before adding, “I…only ask that you will have me.”

Eivor’s heart drummed in his ear, amplifying Vili’s words. Swallowing a knot in his throat, he slid his arm from behind Vili’s back to run his fingertips lightly down Vili’s neck, causing the other man to lift and return his gaze to Eivor’s. “Vili… I never wanted us to have just one night. I have told you before, I thought of you often. When I heard your name again, it relit a flame in me that I was certain would never grow to anything more than frigid ash.” He combed his fingers tenderly into Vili’s unkempt hair, shifting just enough to face Vili completely and watching his expression soften as he continued. “I wanted you to believe our time together was nothing more than a lone passion because I did not want to influence your decision to take after your father and become jarl. I wanted you to write your own saga, gain your own triumphs. If you were to join me in Ravensthorpe as my raider, I wanted it to be your own decision.” He tightened his grip on Vili’s hand, lifting it from his cheek and pressing it against his chest. “Perhaps it is selfish to say, but… I am overjoyed with the decision you made in the end.”

Vili’s face lit up, and he gave Eivor a smile more beautiful than any sight Freyja had blessed into the world. “Not even the gods themselves could have made me choose otherwise.” He placed his free hand gently behind Eivor’s head, pulling him in and pressing his lips softly against the others. The kiss was far more perfect than either could have wanted. Their lips slid together tenderly, longingly, as if they had waited ages for them to meet again, as if they were always meant to. Vili carded his fingers into Eivor’s hair, pulling slightly as he reservedly ran his tongue over Eivor’s bottom lip.

Eivor parted his with a soft breath, welcoming Vili into a deeper kiss as their teeth clashed and tongues tangled. He tilted his head and deepened their kiss, beards scratching together as he pulled Vili that much closer and closed the space between them.

Gently freeing his hand from Eivor’s, Vili skimmed his palm lightly over Eivor’s chest and breathed in the carnal moan he gave against his lips in response. “Eivor, this… closeness with you, I have desired more and more since our first time together.” He moved his hand gently down Eivor’s stomach, resting it on his thigh and giving a light squeeze.

“You mean to say that I was so good, you simply couldn’t stop thinking of me, is that it?” Eivor teased breathily, his lips curling into a playful smirk.

“I won’t deny that.”

“The best you’ve ever had, arse-stick?”

“Yes, yes, take in all the praise.” Vili rolled his eyes and shrugged, brushing Eivor’s thigh sensually as he pressed another firm kiss against his warm lips.

“I won’t deny it, either.” Eivor rasped against Vili’s parted lips, returning his touch and squeezing hard at the other man’s thigh. “I’ve found it quite difficult to keep my thoughts in focus when they always seem to drift to our…passionate night together.”

Vili grazed his hand back up Eivor’s torso, wanton eyes fixed on the hungry gaze Eivor shot him in return. “I’d like nothing more than to relive that night with you, if you will have me, wolf-kissed.” He pressed lightly, pushing Eivor onto his back and placing a starved kiss to his throat. Vili’s hand tangled in Eivor’s hair as the other slowly dragged down the length of his body. Nipping softly at Eivor’s neck, his hand crept ever slower until it paused on the tent growing at the front of his breeches.

“Vili… wait.” Eivor somehow managed to sigh out, his head already in a daze. “You… You intend on taking me in front of my crew?” he quipped through heated breaths, biting softly at Vili’s ear, “Come, join me in the longhouse.”

Without question, Vili willingly obliged and followed Eivor to the longhouse.

Not even a second after entering his room, Eivor latched onto Vili's cloak and pushed him backwards, knocking his hip against the nearby desk as Eivor stood on his tiptoes and covered the taller man’s mouth hungrily with his own.

Vili moaned deep into the kiss, pulse quickening as he ran his palm up Eivor’s back and threaded his fingers through his braided hair. Curling them and giving a light pull, he trailed kisses to Eivor’s bearded chin and down to his neck.

Eivor arched forward, gasping heatedly. He pulled at Vili’s cloak, deftly removing it from his shoulders and letting it fall to the floor before unhooking his own soon after. His hands slid lower, eagerly unlatching Vili’s armor and lifting off the tunic underneath. He ran his palms over his bare chest, eyes feasting on the sight of thin hairs and scars mingling with the intricate tattoos covering his flushed skin. The warmth was intoxicating and had Eivor pressing another hungry kiss to the taller man’s lips.

“Gods, Eivor…” Vili groaned fervently into the kiss before flipping their positions, hoisting the smaller man onto the desk and scattering its supplies over the floor below. “Have I missed your heat… Your touch…” He gripped tighter behind Eivor’s knees and thrust forward, grinding his growing hardness against the other man’s through their clothing.

Eivor sighed and spread his knees invitingly, his own hands sliding up Vili’s toned back as he pulled him closer and rasped lowly, “I have missed you too, Vili. Your skin on mine, heating my blood in the best of ways.” He let go of Vili briefly to remove his own armor, craving more skin on skin and unveiling his tattooed chest before wrapping his arms eagerly around his neck once more.

“I want you, Eivor…” Vili whispered, the heat of Eivor’s dampened skin on his like fire in his veins. “Need you…” He nipped at the other man’s ear, squeezing hard at his thigh.

“Then take me…” Eivor’s ravenous gaze locked onto Vili’s as he breathed out, “I am yours, Vili.”

Vili acted in an instant, immediately lifting the smaller man from the desk and carrying him to the bed. He pushed Eivor down onto the furs below, climbing over him and kissing him hard.

Eivor keened up into him, arms and legs wrapping around him and pulling him closer, desperate to close any space between them.

Vili trailed his lips down Eivor’s chest, tracing the lines of his tattoos with kisses over his taut abdomen before stopping at the coarse hair just below his navel.

Eivor’s cock twitched in anticipation as he watched Vili pull down his breeches and take in the sight his prize. Vili breathed in his musky scent before licking the wetness from the head and closing his lips over it, wild eyes never leaving Eivor's. Eivor cried out Vili’s name, voice so sinful it could make the gods blush. Vili took him deep in his throat, warm mouth devouring as much of him as he could take and fisting tightly around what he couldn’t. Eivor arched into him, fingers threading through his tousled hair and pushing down ever so gently. “By the gods, Vili…” he sighed, his head falling back as he tried his best to keep from thrusting up into Vili’s throat.

To Eivor’s displeasure, Vili pulled off of him far too soon, placing a one last wet kiss to the throbbing length before bringing his lips to Eivor’s ear. “My body aches for you, wolf-kissed,” he rasped, gruff voice making the smaller man tremble with need. “Do you have any oil?”

Eivor gestured towards the chest by the bed, propping himself on his elbows as Vili retrieved the bottle in question. The instant Vili turned to face him again, Eivor leaned forward, pulling him into a sloppy kiss as his free hand dipped into his breeches and freed his straining cock, palming at the untouched hardness.

Vili shuddered at the sudden touch, Eivor’s experienced hand sending lightning down his spine. Barely willing himself, he clutched Eivor’s wrist and pulled his hand away. “Have patience, my little raven.” He pushed Eivor back down, resting between his knees and reaching for his waistband to remove his breeches completely. “There is no rush. You have my word; in time, I will have you soaring with the Valkyries.”

Eivor groaned impatiently as he shifted on the furs, baring his nude form to the man above him. “Patience is not a skill of mine, Vili,” he warned, staving eyes fixed on Vili’s as he teased his hand over his flushed chest, gaze enticing as he slowly skimmed his nails down his abdomen and wrapped his restless fingers around himself.

Vili’s breath hitched at the shameless display before him, and Gods, what a display it was. Eivor lay below him, one hand tracing gentle patterns down his sweat-glistening chest while the other rubbed loosely at his dripping cock. He sighed through a smirk and spread his knees invitingly, aware of Vili’s stare and the show he put on for him. “You tempt me, Eivor…” Vili managed to form a response, fumbling to open the vile of oil and pouring it into his palm. “I had not wanted to rush through this time, but I am beginning to lose any control over myself.”

Eivor watched Vili intently, licking his lips as the bigger man spread the oil over his cock, his prize. “There will be other opportunities to take our time,” he rasped, gripping Vili’s arm and eagerly pulling the bigger man back onto him. “I have longed to feel you on me once more. Lost myself in the thought of you having your way with me. I have no desire to wait any longer.”

Vili ran the back of his hand down Eivor’s side, pulling one knee up and spreading the remaining oil over Eivor’s entrance, making Eivor tremble at the touch. “Are you sure?” He sucked at his ear, leaning ever closer.

Eivor’s hand crept down to grasp onto Vili’s slickened cock, eagerly lining him up with his entrance. He wrapped his legs around Vili’s back, his free hand softly on Vili’s cheek as he answered, “Take me, my drengr.”

Hesitating only for a second, Vili held Eivor tight and slowly pressed forward.

Eivor threw his head back, tensing at the sudden fullness and mewling out Vili’s name. His body jolted as he was so satisfyingly stretched open, clenching around the other man and gripping hard onto his shoulders as he tried to relax.

Shaking from the tightness around him, Vili pushed in slow, agonizingly slow, until finally filling the smaller man to the hilt. He ran his fingers into Eivor’s sweat-dampened hair, pulling him close and stilling his hips to allow Eivor a moment to adjust. “By the gods, Eivor…” he muttered in a trance, resting his sticky forehead on Eivor’s collarbone.

Their union was so much more than it had been the first time. So much hotter, deeper, more passionate. The warmth of furs more comforting than the cold mountainside stone. The raw heat of bare flesh on flesh without need for the protective warmth of clothing. Nowhere to be, no one to report to, melting together in a paradise of nothing but the two of them.

Vili pulled back slightly, giving one shallow thrust after another as he ran a quivering hand down Eivor's flushed cheek. He gazed at the man beneath him with pure adoration, taking in his every movement.

The overwhelming sensation of Vili filling him deep put Eivor’s thoughts in a fog. Each euphorically slow movement had him seeing stars, but it wasn’t enough; he trembled with need, craving every bit of the man above him. “Vili, this… This is lovely, but, please…” He gasped, grinding his hips restlessly to match Vili’s thrusts, “Do not be gentle… Fuck me, Vili…!”

Gods, Eivor’s desperate pleas stirred something primal inside of Vili. His will to hold back was fading fast. Eivor’s strained voice begging in his ear went straight to his cock; he wanted Eivor just as badly, and his body was craving release. Throwing away whatever self-control he had left, Vili lifted upright, cock still sheathed deep inside the other man as he pulled his hips up with him. He gripped tight behind Eivor’s knees before roughly forcing them to the bed below and plowing him hard into the furs.

Each deep thrust sent shocks like Thor’s thunder through Eivor’s convulsing body. The bed under them banged repeatedly against the wall and creaked in time with the ramming onslaught above. Eivor held onto Vili so tightly, so desperately, crying out his name like a mantra and not caring that he was loud enough to wake the entire settlement. “Vili… Please…!” he begged, one hand falling to his leaking cock and frantically jerking himself off as he neared his edge.

Vili’s head was spinning. “Eivor, by the Gods, you are…” His rough voice came out in pieces, mind a blur as he pressed his lips feverishly to Eivor's, drinking in the taste of him and quickening his pace.

The rapid friction had Eivor pleading as he hastened his strokes. He dug his nails deep into Vili’s back and squeezed hard with his other hand as he sent himself over the edge. He released messily over his hand, slowing his movements and panting against Vili's neck.

Enthralled by Eivor’s godlike cries, Vili followed soon after, rapid thrusts coming to a full halt as he gripped Eivor tight and released deep inside of him. He jerked his hips languidly through his climax, weary eyes falling to the euphoric image of the man below him; his flushed skin glistened with sweat and his belly heaved as he fought to catch his breath, cum dripping down his side. He was a sloppy mess, and Vili couldn’t hold back his blissful smile.

“Something funny, arse-stick?” Eivor teased, a hint of embarrassment in his raw voice.

But Vili stayed silent, elated grin still on his lips as he finally released Eivor’s knees and sprawled out over him, lazily pulling him into a sticky hug. “I was just thinking…” he then answered, rugged words barely a whisper in Eivor’s ear, “Having you at my side is better than anything promised in Valhalla.”

Eivor affectionately returned the embrace. “When the time comes, I hope to still have you at my side in the All-Father's Hall,” he confessed softly, fingers sluggishly threading through the other man’s hair and pulling him into his chest.

Vili let out a joyful laugh. “You’ve forgotten already, raven-brains? It does not matter where; even in Valhalla, I will be at your side always.”

Beaming at his response, Eivor playfully ruffled Vili's hair and replied, “I would not wish it any other way, my drengr.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you everyone for reading! I ship these Viking boyfriends so hard and hope I did them justice!


End file.
